She stared at the drink but didn’t take it.
“What do you think of her?” he asked about the woman on the main stage. “Personally, she’s not my type. She wouldn’t get any of my dollars. Not like you.”
Lola turned her head from the woman. “It doesn’t do anything for me,” Lola said. “I think we should go.”
Beau took her chin with his other hand and forced her to look back at the stage. “We’re not going anywhere. Does this make you hot?”
She wrestled her face away. “No.”
“It will,” he said. “Come with me.”
10
Lights lasered through the dark strip club in every direction. Women danced on small podiums set apart from the main stage. The music was loud, but Lola wished it were deafening so she wouldn’t have to hear her thoughts. She’d gone from a prize on Beau’s arm to trailing behind him with her head down to hide her face.
She’d danced for men like Beau before, men who liked to flaunt that they had money to burn. She’d been most careful around that type. When she danced, music lived in her. It was intoxicating. Men could tell, and it was dangerous for them to believe they had that kind of effect on a woman.
Beau led her down a hallway of doors. If one was open, the lights were on, and it was chipped-paint black inside with just a pole and some scattered chairs.
He stopped at the last room. “Here we are, my queen.”
“Why are we here?” She controlled the impulse to fidget by crossing her arms.
Beau gestured inside. “Go on. I warned you not everything would be comfortable.”
It was the VIP room. The round stage, centered in a round room, ensured a view from every angle. One pole cut through the middle. Red velvet walls bled into Bordeaux-colored sofas that lined the space. The bass of the music from the main stage thumped through the room.
Lola looked over her shoulder. A woman in only a shiny gold thong and pasties over her nipples came in. Numerous metallic ribbons threaded her hair. She trailed a finger down Beau’s shoulder. “Good evening, sir,” she said. “I’m Golden.”
“And I’m Angel.” Another woman stepped into the room. Her fur-lined, white baby-doll negligee matched her G-string. She placed a headband with red horns over her blonde hair. “Or Devil,” she said pleasantly. “Your choice.” Lola didn’t recognize either of them.
Beau crossed the room and fell into a sofa. He tugged on his collar a little. Golden pushed some buttons on a keypad and the room changed to fiery pink as the music started. A spotlight shone over the stage.
Angel danced first. Beau watched her spin around the pole, her negligee billowing to reveal a flat stomach. She landed with ease on towering heels and smiled at him. He remained impassive.
The lights changed from pink to deep purple. Golden sat next to Beau and whispered in his ear. He nodded. Lola stood motionless while Golden straddled Beau, hovering her lips above his as she danced for him. The room was blue now, turning the red velvet a blood-black color. Beau looked past Golden to Angel when she bent, touched her toes and displayed her barely-there underwear for him. His eyes shifted to Lola. “Join me.”
She shook her head. Watching him with another woman did nothing for her except spark some disappointment. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might involve anyone else in their evening.
“It’s not a request,” he said.
Lola went to sit by him. Golden’s breasts nearly touched his cheek with each movement.
“Are you enjoying this?” he asked.
“Why would you pay for an evening with me just to watch them?”
“I’m still with you.” He leaned over and kissed her harder than he had earlier. When she jerked back, he reached up to keep her there. His lips and hand were warm. Pulling away had been instinct, but they’d be doing far more soon. Her jaw and shoulders relaxed. For now, it was just a kiss.
“It’s sweet,” he whispered into her mouth, “the taste of your submission.” He pecked her again and looked up. “Touch her.”
Lola had momentarily forgotten about the other women. Golden’s fingers were soft as she combed Lola’s hair away from her face.
“Have you ever been with a woman?” Beau asked.
“Once. To try.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Not enough to do it again.”
Golden ran a knuckle down Lola’s cheek. She traced her way down the strap of Lola’s dress to the neckline, but Beau grabbed her wrist. “Wait.”
She dropped her arm to her side. Angel worked the pole, sliding over it as if it were silk against her skin, possessing it with her legs and hands. The white fabric of her top shone unde
r the spotlight as she peeled it off. She stopped there. The topless-only rule hadn’t changed since Lola’s time there.
“Kiss,” Beau said.
Lola snapped her head back to Beau. He was watching her, not Angel. The room became hotter. He nodded once. Golden leaned over and put her mouth to Lola’s. Gently, she ran her tongue along Lola’s bottom lip.
Lola backed away a little. Beau had left the taste of liquor in her mouth. The woman’s cherry lip balm would replace it. Any other night she might’ve preferred the cherry, but tonight she wanted Beau’s bitter flavor. Golden chased her down for another kiss as she felt Lola’s breast through her dress. Lola shut her eyes briefly and gave into the shameful desire that it was actually Beau touching her.
“Beau,” Lola moaned, not because she enjoyed it, but because she didn’t.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he said.
Golden tweaked Lola’s nipples into hardening.
“If you don’t like it,” he said, “just say so.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Enough,” Beau said. Golden pulled away, obviously confused.
“Now you, Lola,” he said when the song changed. He signaled Angel to get down.
“But—”
“It’s not up for discussion.”
“Ask them to leave,” Lola said. “If I dance, it’s only for you.”
Beau’s lids lowered a little, but he blinked suddenly and the lusty look was gone. “How many times do I need to ask before you do what I say? Hmm? You challenge me at every turn. Get up on the stage and dance.”
She stood.
“Now tell me why you’re doing this,” he said.
She opened her mouth, breathed softly. With the hardness in his voice, her determination not to enjoy herself slipped. He already had all the power, but he wanted more. With each passing hour, he pushed the limits of her submission. Not even Johnny held that kind of complete control over her.
“Why?” he repeated.
“Because you told me to.”
“Very good.”
She climbed onto the platform. The spotlight and room had turned red.
“You get paid either way,” Beau said. “So try to enjoy it.”